Where the torture never stops..

Khoder bin Hakkin hakkin at sarin.com
Wed Oct 24 13:04:17 PDT 2001


Wednesday October 24 2:24 PM ET

Pakistani Held in Attack Probe Dies in U.S. Jail

NEWARK, N.J. (Reuters) - A Pakistani arrested on immigration charges in
the U.S. probe of last month's suicide plane
attacks has been found dead in his jail cell in New Jersey, but the
cause of death is not yet known, a state official said
on Wednesday.

The body of the 55-year-old man, whose identity was not released, was
found in his cell on Tuesday at the Hudson
County jail in Kearny, said Jacob Delemos, a spokesman for the Hudson
County executive's office.

Delemos said officials administered a nasal swab on the body to test for
anthrax and the result was negative. Anthrax, a
potential germ warfare agent, has killed at least three people in the
United States this month and the government fears its
spread may be the work of those responsible for the Sept. 11 plane
attacks.

He said the man was arrested on Sept. 19 ``along with others in that
aggressive approach of the FBI'' after the attacks
on the 110-storey twin towers of the World Trade Center, Washington and
Pennsylvania that killed more than 5,000
people. He said the man was being held on immigration charges.

Delemos said more than three weeks ago the man had complained of gum
pain and showed signs of gingivitis, according
to the county medical examiner. He was treated with an antibiotic
between Oct. 1 and Oct. 6.

Representatives of the FBI and the Immigration and Naturalization
Service were not immediately available to comment.

http://dailynews.yahoo.com/htx/nm/20011024/ts/attack_newjersey_detainee_dc_1.html

Flies all green and buzzin',
                               in this dungeon of despair.
                               Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes,

                               and scratch their matted hair.
                               A tiny light, from a window hole,
                               a hundred yards away,
                               is all they ever gets to know
                               about the regular light in the day.

                               And it stinks so bad, the stones been
chokin',
                               and weepin' greenish drops.
                               In the room where the giant fire puffer
works,
                               and the torture never stops.

                               The torture never stops.

                               Slime and rot, rats and snot,
                               and vomit on the floor.
                               Fifty yoogly soldiers, man,
                               holdin' spears by the iron door.
                               Knives and spikes, and guns and the likes

                               of every tool of pain.
                               And a sinister midget, with a bucket and
a mop,
                               where the blood goes down the drain.

                               And it stinks so bad, the stones been
chokin',
                               and weepin' greenish drops.
                               In the room where the giant fire puffer
works,
                               and the torture never stops.

                               The torture never stops.
                               The torture.. the torture..
                               The torture never stops.

                               Flies all green and buzzin',
                               in this dungeon of despair.
                               An evil prince eats a steaming pig,
                               in a chamber right near there.
                               He eats the snouts and the trotters
first.
                               The loins and the groins is soon
dispersed.
                               His carvin' style is well rehearsed.
                               He stands and shouts:

                               All men be cursed!
                               All men be cursed!
                               All men be cursed!
                               All men be cursed!

                               And disagree?
                               Well, no one durst.

                               He's the best, of course, of all the
worst.
                               Some wrong been done, he done it first.

                               And it stinks so bad, his bones been
chokin',
                               and weepin' greenish drops.
                               In the night of the iron sausage,
                               where the torture never stops.

                               The torture never stops.
                               The torture.. the torture..
                               The torture never stops.

                               Flies all green and buzzin',
                               in this dungeon of despair.
                               Who are all those people,
                               that he's locked away down there?
                               Are they crazy?
                               Are they sainted?
                               Are they zeroes,
                               someone painted?

                               And it's never been explained,
                               since it first it was created.
                               But a dungeon, like a sin,
                               requires not but lockin' in,
                               of everything that's ever been.
                               Look at her.
                               Look at him.

                               That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
                               That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
                               That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.
                               That's what's the deal we're dealin' in.





More information about the cypherpunks-legacy mailing list